Sabrynne Buchholz

I dreamt of a warm sky frothed like sea foam
A rusted VW van to drive to an hour off ocean
Swan adrift in a deep sky expanding with pinprick light

I dreamt of a perpetual harvest
A banana seat bike sunken down in wet moss
Beads of silver light dripping through hush and crisp windows

I dreamt of a milky white blizzard
A small Ford truck on a cobbled damp drive
Small house fenced in on a frigid slope

I dreamt of a forest filled with cuckoo birds
A pair of sneakers left at the edge of a flower petal stream
Train whistle echoes through a field of thistledown and brimstone

I dreamt of a year’s worth of history in a place I’ve never been
A collection of bridges left to crumble instead of burn
Places I dream up to house the people who have faded out the same as
Summer to Autumn to Winter to Spring to --